Forbidden Friendship
by Mysteryfawdot
Summary: Hermione is forced to spend an hour with Draco everyday for a week after they both land themselves in detention - but they soon realise that they actually get on really well when Harry and Ron aren't around. What will happen when the detentions are over? And what complications will their new bond bring?
1. Chapter 1  The detentions start

It was another beautiful day at Hogwarts. Ron, Harry and Hermione were making the most of the warm saturday sunshine by relaxing outside by the lake. They were doing what they always did on sunny weekends - Hermione leaning against the thick trunk of the willow tree, her nose buried deep in a book; Ron skimming stones at the edge of the lake; Harry polishing and servicing his broomstick, sitting half in the shade, with the tail of his broomstick glinting in the sun.

Apart from the noise of Harry turning the pages of his broomstick maintenance guide, and the soft plop of the stones sinking to the bottom of the lake, it was a quiet morning.

"Amazing," Harry kept muttering under his breath, his fingers absent-mindedly trailing up and down the handle of his broom. "Hermione, did you know that they are currently making a broomstick which can go 20 miles an hour **faster **than my firebolt?"

Hermione marked her place in her book with a leaf and snapped it shut. She gave Harry an exasperated smile. "Yes Harry, I did know that. You've told me about a thousand times! How would you like it if I kept telling you my favourite facts from 'Hogwarts: A History' over and over again!"

"You're _still _reading that!" Ron called over, artfully skimming a stone seven times over the water before it sank. He gave a woop and bounded over, and flopped down next to Harry. "Bloody hell, you _are _still reading it. I could've sworn you finished it ages ago."

Harry could see Hermione was getting a little frustrated. "Well, Ronald, I have a strange hobby of actually reading books for _fun. _I personally find it a very interesting book, hence why I am still reading it." Hermione said the last few words with an edge to her voice, a telltale sign that if Ron didn't shut up soon he'd soon have a 'Hogwarts: A History' wacked around his head.

Ron got up to his feet, slightly wary of Hermione, dusting off his knees. "All right, all right," he muttered. "I don't care. All the books in the library are terrible, anyway. They're bloody boring."

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to come out with what probably would have been a very cutting comeback, they heard another voice.

"I expect the real reason Weasle hates books is because he can't afford any!" They heard Malfoy's voice before they saw him. A couple of seconds later, he appeared from a cluster of trees.

Hermione got up to her feet, holding her book across her chest. "Go away, Malfoy," she said, with a slight shakiness to her voice.

Draco merely raised his eyebrows at her and moved on to Harry. Harry quickly got up from his lying position, and stood up face to face with him.

"Leave us alone, Malfoy," Harry said with gritted teeth. Malfoy took a couple of steps back, pretending to be intimidated.

"Oooh, scary Potter!" He laughed, before pulling a horribly exaggerated scared face. Harry was just starting to walk up to Draco when Ron elbowed him out of the way.

"What do you want!" He exclaimed. "Piss of back to Crabbe and Goyle!"

Draco merely laughed at him. "Don't stress yourself, Weasle. You're not in trouble. Go back to skimming your stones; I bet that's your only source of entertainment at home, isn't it?" He chortled at his own joke. "It's Hermione I want to see."

He turned to Hermione, who in the meantime had sat back down against the tree. She simply gave him a smoldering look and opened her book at a random page. This was obviously not the reaction Draco had wanted.

"Oi, mudblood. Snape wants to see you!" He jeered. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, knowing Malfoy had gone too far.

"Don't you DARE call me a mudblood!" Hermione cried as she got up to her feet. Carrying her book, she ran up to Draco and gave him a full, hard blow on the head with it. Shocked, he fell backwards to the ground, staring speechlessly at her. Hermione looked down on him with a smirk, immensely satisfied with her aim. All of her anger had gone into it.

"Miss Granger! Mr Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall cried as she hurried over. Her hands outstretched, she snatched the book off Hermione.

"Violation of school property! Violence on another student! And you, Mr Malfoy, we do NOT have language like that at Hogwarts! How dare you call Miss Granger a mudblood, for a start! Get up now!" She pulled his hand and Draco stumbled to his feet. Brushing down his cloak, he gave Hermione a hateful look which sent uncomfortable chills down her spine. Professor McGonagall turned around and called the two to follow her, as she headed to the castle. Making sure she stayed a good distance away from Malfoy, she ran past him and walked next to the professor.

"I hope you know, Miss Granger, that seeing as this is your first violation of rules in a long time, and you are in my house, you will be getting off much lighter than Mr Malfoy," she whispered out the side of her mouth to Hermione. "Although I am still ashamed I caught you in such an unruly act!"

Professor McGonagall took the pair to her deserted classroom and told them to sit. As if they were two repelling magnets, Hermione sat on the seat nearest to the left wall, and Draco to the right. After a silent minute or so of the professor arranging her desk with her wand, she turned to face them.

"It is an understatement to say that I am ashamed of you both. Not only do we_ not _have violence and harassment at Hogwarts, but you have been a let down to your houses. You, miss Granger, belong to Gryffindor, a house known for nobility and strong friendships. Although I am not asking you and Draco to be friends" - Draco spluttered at that part - "I am definitely NOT allowing you two to be constantly at eachother's necks. And you, Mr Malfoy. You belong to Slytherin, a house for those who are resourceful, noble, and, when it comes down to it, of a high grace. You have fallen to an incredibly low standard by insulting Hermione and her friends. Making them feel like the poorest of poor will not make you any better, Mr Malfoy. Now, as detention, you will be doing various jobs for me. As it is nearly the end of term, I will not set you any more homework. Draco, I would like you to clean these desk down - without magic, please. Miss granger, due to your high intellect of transfiguration, I would like you to mark these first years' homeworks. I want in depth corrections, opinions and explanations.". As she placed the pile on Hermione's desk, she gave her a small wink. Professor Mcgonagall knew that Hermione would enjoy this sort of thing. "I need to go and do some errands of my own, now. I shall be back in two hours. Mr Malfoy, if you finish cleaning the desks before my return, I would highly appreciate the text books being sorted out." She pointed to a vast, messy pile of old text books in the corner. And with that, she turned on her heel and closed the door.

After the slam had finished echoing around the room, the tension was unbearable. Finally, after a minute or so of painful silence, Hermione piped up. "Why did Snape want to see me?" She asked.

Draco was rummaging in the supplies closet at the back for cleaning products. He didn't turn round. "Dunno. Something about a detention. Oh my, Granger. Even _more _detention."

Hermione turned back round, her eyes stinging. She tried to divert her thoughts to Benjamin Fickley's homework ('The Basic Rules of Transfiguration'), marking crosses down the parchment and printing corrections in her neatest handwriting in the margin. But she was weighed down with heavier thoughts, like how she was going to bear two hours with that monster, when even after a couple of minutes, she was already fighting back tears.


	2. Chapter 2  It all gets worse!

Snape burst into the corridor, his shoes clacking against the hard stone. He looked out of the windows over the lawn and the lake, trying to spy Hermione, or at least, Draco, who he'd sent to find her. He could see Crabbe and Goyle picking on some Second years, which he chose to ignore, and in the far distance, by the lake, a boy hovering a few feet above the ground on a broomstick. He was with a boy who's fiery red hair reflected the sun, easily giving away his identity.

Without a doubt, the pair were Harry and Ron. The willow tree by the lake was the trio's favourite haunt, but there was no Hermione there today. Whenever he looked out on them, Hermione would be leaning against the tree, reading. There was no sight of her.

The reason he wanted to see her was because of the strange engraving he'd found on one of the potions desks - the one where she always sat with Harry and Ron. While cleaning them earlier on, Snape had noticed a tiny sentence etched into the surface of the corner of the table. 'If you're reading this, you're obviously surviving potions. Not sure I will, though - good luck! F, Hermione' the message had read. It wasn't the fact that Hermione had damaged his table. He'd been able to repair it within seconds. It was the fact that Snape was in a bad mood, and was not willing to forget what she had written. Hermione was a clever girl, and although he never really had got on with her, Snape had always believed she enjoyed the lessons. He hated to admit it, and wouldn't admit it to anyone but... it had hurt him a little inside. He remember how Lily had always loved potions. It was another hard thing to admit, but Hermione's passion for learning had always kept a bit of Lily alive inside of him.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Snape cleared his head just in time before nearly walking into Professor McGonagall. He got straight to the point.

"You haven't any idea where Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are, do you?" He said in his low, curt voice.

"Oh dear heavens, yes I do," replied the professor. "They are both in my classroom, serving detention."

Snape straightened up a little at this, curious. "What for?" He asked.

Professor McGonagall straightened her skirt. "I caught Miss Granger giving Draco a wack around the head, which I secretly believe was rightfully deserved after catching him calling her a mudblood!"

Snape smirked. "What are they doing?"

"I've given Hermione a bit of homework to mark. Draco has been ordered to clean the classroom."

"So Hermione's been let off lightly, has she?" Snape remarked. "I was actually searching for her to give her a detention myself. They might as well serve equal detentions now." And before the professor could say anything, Snape turned on his heel and headed for the transfiguration classroom.

Meanwhile, Draco was onto his second desk. The cleaning cloth had been bewitched, and would yell at Draco if he were to leave a desk not 100% clean. Hermione's ordeal had worsened, after Draco had caught her irrevocably sniggering at the cloth's high-pitched criticisms.

"You think it's funny, do you, Granger? You won't find it funny if I were to accidentally trip and send those homeworks flying," he'd hissed at her as he scrubbed the desk leg. The cleaning bottle contained a liquid that turned to a foam when tipped onto the cloth, and varied in colour. What Hermione found strange is that it was morphing into all sorts of delicious crimsons. Was that right for a cleaning liquid?

Hermione was onto her second last piece of homework and was just re-writing a rule when Snape burst in. The loud clap of the doors opening made her jump involuntarily, sending her quill flying across the page. Hermione groaned inwardly; there was now a long, thick streak of black ink across the parchment.

"Miss Granger," Snape said in a displeased tone. "Would you like to explain the little message you left for other students on my potions desk?"

Hermione flushed a deep pink. Oh no; she'd been secretly trying out a new spell where she could carve messages silently. She'd been so careless and forgotten to clear it. After her timid explanation, Snape smirked.

"Come with me, you two," he asked in his cold voice. "Oh, and Draco - take the cleaning items with you."

I know this is a shorter chapter, but it kind of needs to end here for the other chapter to start haha. I would say please review, and rate or whatever, but it's obvious I want you to do that anyway :)


	3. Chapter 3 the Amortentia spillage

"Where are we going?" asked Draco breathlessly as they followed Snape up a spiraling tower.

"Wait and you will see," the two heard Snape say, who was walking up the stairs as if it were no effort to him at all. Hermione was trying to work out what tower they were in - she wasn't sure she'd even been in this one. It was extremely big, and very tall. Hermione looked up above her and the stairs just seemed to go on and on.

For a few more minutes, all you could hear in the tower was the sharp echo of the three's feet. Then suddenly, outside a huge, dark door, Snape stopped. He gently curled his fingers around the old brass knob, and waited for other two to catch up. They appeared after about half a minute, and Draco collapsed onto the stone step, gasping. Hermione leant against the wall and discreetly tried to fix her hair – it always went bushy when she was flustered.

"This," started Snape, "Is your task in detention. This room has not been used for at least ten years. It was believed to be no use to Hogwarts until recently. Before we can use it, we must clean it well. And that's what you two are doing."

Hermione straightened up, and for a moment, almost put up her hand. She shook herself out of it. "Sir," her high voice echoed off the walls of the tower and down below. "w-what is the classroom being used for?"

Snape slowly turned his head towards her, his eyes grazing over Malfoy's exhausted figure, now starting to get up. "If you have no need to know, then I will not tell you. Now, in." All of a sudden, the lock unclicked and the heavy door swung open. Hermione peeked inside. The room was absolutely huge, with cobwebs draped over all the desks, which were ladened with decades of dust. It was everywhere. It frosted the windows, it was swirling in the air.

"Sir, I-I know a good spell to eliminate dust." Hermione spluttered. But she knew what the reply would be, as the expression on Snape's face went from unimpressed to a smirk which reached every corner of his face.

"Miss Granger, the pair of you are to clean this room. _Without _magic. I will be back for you when your detention is over." And with that, he pushed the two into the room and shut the door.

Coughing and spluttering, the two stood deathly still, trying to settle the clouds of dust.

"This is all your fault, mudblood!" Draco yelled angrily. "Just wait till my father hears about this atrocity! Stuck in a minging old room with a mudblood!"

"It's no better for me, you know!" Hermione whipped around and yelled. "If you had never called me mudblood, this would never have happened at all!"

Draco laughed; it was a cold, ugly laugh which ignited Hermione's anger. Furious, she started to march over to Malfoy. She rubbed her hands together, waiting to give the slap of a century. Who cared if she got into trouble? Draco had gone ten steps too far and he knew it.

"You filthy Slytherin!' she cried as she outstretched her hand. Draco, shocked but aware of what was about to happen, yelled and shielded his face with the cleaning bottle. Hermione slapped Draco, and the cleaning bottle went flying.

Smash. The bottle flew through the air and landed on the ground, breaking into hundreds of shards. The liquid seeped out. It hadn't turned to foam yet; it was the deep red colour, which although should have reminded the pair of blood, it reminded them of a colour which was heavenly, a colour which signified love. The colour looked wonderful. Hermione stepped toward it. As did Draco. They both stared at it with wide eyes.

And that's when Hermione smelt it. She experienced a huge rush, a combination of all her favourite smells, in an extravagant, irresistible perfume. She caught whiffs of old library books, mown grass, hot cocoa, toothpaste, fresh clean robes... the list could go on forever.

Hermione came back to earth. No. It couldn't be. But it had to be. The cleaning liquid was infused with Amortentia. Or at least, a good imitation of it.

Hermione backed away, panicking. She knew what happened to people who drank or inhaled a well-made Amortentia. They fell in love with the first person they saw. And there was only one other person in the room. One she could never ever fall in love with.

And yet, when Hermione looked up, she forgot to panic. She inhaled again; it was too tempting. The smell of a bonfire, rain, new rolls of parchment, and - she turned to Draco, inhaling deeply. Draco was staring dreamily at the ceiling, and then slowly turned to Hermione. They locked eyes. How had Draco never noticed her eyes before? Hermione may be a mudblood, but she was bloody beautiful. Her hazel eyes reminded him of warm chestnuts in winter. Hermione looked at Draco. What a fine man. With his crystal grey eyes, light blonde hair, slim, pointed face, how could she -

"NO!" Hermione screamed and turned around to face the wall. "Draco! Stop it! The cleaning liquid's been infused with Amortentia!"

She heard Draco laugh. " Hermione, come here."

"No." Hermione was shaking. "I can't."

Draco walked up to her and lightly touched her shoulder. "I know what it is," he whispered softly. "It's amortentia. Now, I don't have my wand on me. But you do, don't you? We need to clean it up." He broke away his clasp, still inhaling deeply. Hermione nodded, drew out her wand from her pocket and, before she could be drawn into it's trap, cleaned it all up with a slight flick.

Draco smirked. "There are more cloths and dusters on the side. Come on Granger, let's get started."

"Don't order me what to do," Hermione replied shakily, making her way to the counter.


	4. Chapter 4 A turn in the tables

After about an hour or so, about an eighth of the classroom could be called clean. Hermione and Draco had done it as far away from each other as possible, scrubbing the walls, dusting the corners, polishing the desks. Silently. The silence was particularly tense, but seeing as the pair had just narrowly avoided infatuation with each other, they were glad it was silence and nothing more.

Surprisingly, it was Draco who spoke first. "Look Granger, it's been over an hour and we've done next to nothing. We might as well talk to pass the time."

Hermione looked over at Draco. "And let me guess - we keep it secret that we never talked, due to your high reputation?" she asked bitterly. Draco looked hurt, but he masked it over immediately - but not before Hermione saw it. "Well, er. Of course," Draco replied, trying to speak as matter-of-factly as possible. "And of course, we don't tell ANYONE the fact that we both nearly fell in love with each other."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Well, fine then. What do you want to talk about?" She still wasn't convinced.

Draco paused, thinking. "Let's... gossip. That's always and easy one to start with."

Hermione laughed; she had to. This was just a way of finding out Harry's secrets. "I'm not telling you anything about Harry," she warned him.

It was Draco's turn to laugh. "I highly doubted you would - Potter doesn't really do anything worth talking about, does he? Now, did you hear about Amelia Hudgford? She got paid fifteen galleons to go up the Astronomy tower with Bertie Thomas!" He looked over at Hermione, smirking. "Lucky man, lucky man!" He grinned.

Hermione didn't look up from wiping the desk, but she did laugh. "Well, that doesn't beat what _I _heard. Professor Trelawney received a love letter in the post last week - from the initials of S.S! We don't reckon it's Snape though. But we have no idea who it could be."

Draco looked over at her and laughed. The tension had gone so quickly, and in it's place, a surprisingly easy company had formed. How had that happened? This was Hermione, mudblood Hermione, with her bushy hair and snobby manner. Malfoy raised his eyebrows at himself, and carried on talking about the scandals rippling the school.

Hermione moved on to the table leg, brushing her hair over her face to hide her blush. What was going on? This was Draco Malfoy, with his pure-blood beliefs, his stinking attitude, and also, above all, he was her best friend Harry's nemesis. If Harry knew what was going on, he'd probably never speak to her again! Well, that probably wasn't true. But seeing as Hermione had never even pondered the possibility of having a conversation with Malfoy, she'd never pondered the after-affects, either. As Draco explained why Polly Truckle had been away for a month, Hermione found herself gradually warming to him. He had a good sense of humour, when it wasn't turned against you. He had a nice laugh, when it had warmth in it. When they weren't talking, he hummed under his breath. It was nice, when they ran out of gossip, with Draco humming. It prevented any more tense silences.

_Hermione! _She thought to herself. _This is Draco Malfoy! You honestly think you've bonded over the amortentia incident? That's not enough to be friends with him. This has to stop. It must be a trap. _She carried on cleaning the leg with such ferocity that the cloth started to squeal at her.

"Granger, you're pressing a little too hard for the cloth, I think!" Draco called over. He was standing on a desk, clearing cobwebs off the corners. He couldn't help but wonder when Snape was coming back - it had been at least an hour. He would never admit it to to Crabbe and Goyle, but he was actually enjoying Hermione's company. She wasn't really a bad person, and after all, after this detention, he'd never have to speak to her again.

He couldn't help but notice things he'd never noticed before, though. How Hermione had no trouble brewing complex potions, tipping her ingredients into the cauldron while looking over the top to talk with Harry and Ron, yet while she was cleaning, she wore a frown, and her cheeks flushed rose.

_I wonder how she does it, _Draco thought. _She excels in all her classes, yet has trouble cleaning a classroom! _He laughed inwardly and carried on waving the duster about. The classroom looked slightly better, although the only two windows were about 2 metres off the ground and it was getting late. The dusky light made it harder to clean.

"Granger?" Malfoy called over. Hermione's head snapped up.

"Yes?"

"Don't - don't tell Potter or Weasley about this."

Hermione half-smiled. "Let's just say how we are both lucky to still be alive after being cooped up together all afternoon. The urge to kill eachother was mutual."

"Yeah," said Draco half-heartedly. He was going to miss being able to talk to Hermione. He wasn't sure why - maybe because he saw something he'd never seen before. A possibility. Of having a friend. He didn't really have any of those. Crabbe and Goyle were more of assistants, or guards. Even followers. Pansy was an associate. He didn't really like her, but she was in Slytherin so he didn't really have a choice to avoid her. But here he was, chatting to mudblood Granger, actually enjoying it. Was this what a friendship was like?

Before Draco could say anything else, Snape burst in. "That will be enough for the day," he said, blatantly displeased at the little they had managed to do. "Seeing as there is only one week left of school, you will return tomorrow to clean this, at 3pm. Then you will come here immediately after school to do an hour. Until the end of term." Draco and Hermione groaned, yet both were secretly please at more opportunities to talk with eachother. And with that, Snape turned and left. Hermione sighed, her smile slipping off her face. Time to start pretending she hated Malfoy again.


	5. Chapter 5 Tension at dinner

"What the bloody hell was that all about!" Asked Ron as Hermione made her way over to the willow tree. It was nearly dinner, and Harry was packing away his stuff. Hermione explained about the detention, skimming over the fact that she and Malfoy had become sort of friends. Although they had no reason to, Hermione still panicked that they'd find out she'd been talking to Draco.

"Not fraternizing with the enemy, I hope?" Ron grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hermione froze. No, Ron couldn't know about it. Could he? No. Definitely not. He had to be joking. Anyway, to be on the safe side, Hermione left first and Draco waited a couple of minutes before he made his way out of the tower. Hermione smiled.

"As if I would talk to that cockroach," she muttered barely audibly. Harry said nothing, just lead the way to dinner. Ron wouldn't shut up about quidditch, too excited about the upcoming match to notice how Hermione was dead silent, and Harry wasn't listening.

_I wonder what's up with Harry, _Hermione thought. The fact that she was being silent was because she kept replaying the last few hours over and over in her head, dissecting them, wondering what it meant, why Draco did this, why he didn't do that. Why Draco spoke to her. Why was Harry so silent?

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice full of concern. Harry looked up sharply.

"No, er, nope. Nothing's wrong, Hermione. All's splendid." Harry stuttered. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked down at the stone steps. As they neared the great hall, they could smell wafts of roast chicken, potatoes, beef, and rich, warm gravy. The heavenly smell made Ron finally shut up. After all, nothing could get to Ron just like food did.

"God, smells great," Ron sighed as they turned into the great hall. His smile quickly morphed into a frown. "What's that Malfoy up to?"

Hermione jerked her head round, trying to find him. There he was, sitting with Pansy, ladling gravy onto his plate. Hermione stared at him, willing for him to look up. It was a surprise when he did. Draco locked eyes with Hermione, expressionless, and then looked down again.

"Ron, don't be so idiotic. Just because you don't like Draco, doesn't mean he's always up to something!" She exclaimed. Taken aback at Hermione's outburst, Ron put his hands up in surrender. As they sat down with their backs to Malfoy, Ron exchanged glances with Harry, who simply pursed his lips and murmured, "She's right, you know". Hermione could feel Draco's stare running up her back. Hermione felt this all new feeling, a feeling she got when she passed a hard test and came top, a feeling she got when she first rode a broomstick. A feeling pumped through the veins. Adrenaline. The fact that she had a very scandalous secret of her own to keep.

Lol sorry for the really short chapter. I needed to include this one (and it makes a change from all the other 1000 word ones I guess...) because it makes a bit of a bridge between the first and second detention

Please review but please be nice, it's my first story haha.

And to those who have reviewed/added to favourites/subscribed already, thank you so much! I would've been happy with just one person enjoying it. I'm glad that others have too! :)


	6. Chapter 6 The second detention

It was time for the second detention. Hermione had started feeling queasy at lunch, hardly eating any of her pork chops. She made an excuse of needing to go to the library in the afternoon to finish her ancient runes essay, which luckily, Harry and Ron accepted without question. As she wandered round the library, running her fingers along the dusty spines, a thought occurred to her. Harry _knew _that she'd finished her runes essay because he had been with her, reading Quidditch books and putting Hermione's books way when she'd finished with them. Harry had known, because he had put his book away and asked Hermione if she was done because he was hungry. She replied, telling him to hang on one more minute, she was on her last sentence. And then she had rolled up her parchment, handed the book to Harry to put away, and put everything in her bag and left with him.

_He must've forgotten, _Hermione comforted herself. _He wouldn't expect you to be hiding in the library because you were nervous about a detention!_

At half past two, unable to put up with any more nervous anticipation, Hermione started to make her way to the tower in hope that she'd get there before Draco. Unfortunately it took her only ten minutes to get to the tower, and go up to the room. And, to her dismay, someone was already standing there.

"Granger!" Malfoy called down. "It's the gentleman who's supposed to be early, not the lady!"

Hermione ignored him and ran up the spiraling steps. "Unfortunately," she said as she reached the room, between gasps of air, "this lady doesn't believe in feminism. She does what she likes."

Draco grinned. "Ah. I've always liked a woman who goes against the rules."

Hermione blushed and looked down, frowning. Draco wasn't possibly _flirting _with her? Of course not, how silly. This time yesterday he was still spitting 'mudblood' at her!

"You know full well that I don't break rules!" she said, still looking at the ground and trying to sound as superior as possible. Needless to say, it didn't come out like that.

"Of course, Granger. You're not breaking any now, are you?" Hermione looked up and he grinned. She couldn't help but smile back. What was wrong with having a little fun? After all, these detentions were compulsory. She had to do them, Snape would never dream of excusing her. So she might as well shake it up a bit. That sounded fun, didn't it? Shaking things up a little. Hermione smiled to no one in particular and leaned against the wall. Draco, who was also leaning, turned toward her.

"So I was thinking, Granger. If you're so clever, why aren't you in Ravenclaw or Slytherin?"

Hermione laughed. "So you actually think of me voluntarily?" She replied, her voice full of humour.

"Yeah, I guess I do! Answer me. Why are you in Gryffindor?"

Hermione shrugged. "The Sorting hat saw fit to put me in Gryffindor. It _was _debating Ravenclaw, though. I think it put me in Gryffindor to keep watch over Harry and Ron! But it was never, ever supposing Slytherin for me. Why do you say that?"

Draco looked up at the top of the tower. There were openings at the pointy top, letting in beams of sunshine. His face caught a ray and glowed like an angel.

"Slytherin isn't for dumb people, Granger. And you aren't dumb. You'd do well in Slytherin."

"You-know-who was in Slytherin," Hermione half-whispered. Draco was silent for a while.

"That doesn't mean that everyone in Slytherin is bad." His voice had a pinch of hurt in it. He turned to Hermione, who had flushed a deep rose.

"I-I didn't mean _you _are bad, Draco. Although you have made life a little unbearable for Harry, Ron and I." _This conversation is going downhill rather quickly, _she thought.

Draco put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and turned her towards him. His face was completely solemn. "I'm sorry."

Hermione, taken aback at the unexpected apology, smiled. "Look, it's fine with me. But I hated it when you called me a mudblood."

Now it was Draco's turn to look taken aback. He withdrew his hand and rubbed his face. "I-I… I thought... it was just a nickname, Granger. Just like yours for me was 'filthy little cockroach'. Or variations on that line. But I never meant it to really upset you."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. "Well, it did. I don't mind being muggle born, but the names to get to me."

The look on Draco's face was hard to comprehend. As if he was debating whether to say something. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Snape's cold voice echoed round the tower.

"Enough with the socializing – " Snape drew out the last word – "and go inside. I will come back after 4." And with that, he made his way down the stone steps, his black cloak billowing out behind him.

Hermione and Draco exchanged worried glances. How much had Snape seen? He'd crept up on them awfully quietly. They went inside the room.

Just like yesterday, they were greeted by a thick, swirly cloud of dust. Coughing and choking, they made their way to the pile of cleaning products they'd so hastily abandoned yesterday. Hermione automatically reached out for the duster, and knocked hands with Draco, who grabbed it as well. They both withdrew their hands lunged for the cloth instead, resulting in them both laughing at the awkwardness.

"Draco, take the duster. You're taller." Hermione grabbed the cloth and polish and got started on a nearby desk. Draco took the duster and, in a bid to make her laugh, jumped up onto the desk Hermione was polishing to clean the ceiling. In return, Hermione pushed him off, and they both tumbled to the ground in fits of laughter.

As their laughing subsided, Hermione frowned. "You're Draco Malfoy," she said seriously.

Draco was confused. _Don't tell me she's been mistaking me for Harry or something, _he thought.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked.

Draco got up, brushing off his knees. "Why are you letting me be nice to you?"

Hermione got up and leaned against the desk. "I just want to know why you've been throwing insults at us ever since we came to Hogwarts, and now you're being friends with me? Why have you changed so suddenly?"

Draco was silent. Hermione drummed her fingers on the desk, impatient.

He sighed. "You're easy to talk to. I tried being nice to you and you warmed up to me like that" – he clicked his fingers – "and I thought, 'if we have some company this detention might go a little quicker.' I never thought that we were actually going to get on really well. It's stupid really; we still have to pretend we hate each other. I just don't see the point of getting too friendly. We'd only be able to talk in secret."

Hermione breathed in, her throat blocking up. _How stupid are you, Hermione? Getting all welled up because you thought for a moment, all this stupidity between you and Draco and Harry and Ron would stop. Although it makes sense for Draco to say that you can't just suddenly be friends. People would reckon he was using a Confundus charm on you! _"If you actually mean it, I don't mind trying to stay friends with you. But if you'd rather just forget anything happened, then, fine. I'll forget too." She bent her head and wiped her eyes furiously.

"Well, let's not rush into anything yet," said Draco. "We still have five more detentions when we can talk."

And that's how it went. For the next few detentions, Draco and Hermione showed up half an hour early, and then would separate the jobs between them. Then, when the detention was over, Hermione would leave first. When she had exited the tower, Draco would go down. They were careful not to make eye contact during dinner, they were cautious to avoid each other during lessons.


	7. Chapter 7 A fall at the quidditch match

Due to the fact that everyone had done extremely well in their exams, there was to be a light-hearted quidditch tournament all day on Wednesday. Harry, being quidditch captain, immediately selected Ron to be on the team.

That left Hermione to be a spectator. It was a warm, breezy day, and as everyone trooped to the quidditch pitch, there was lively chatter and light-hearted banter flying around. Hermione seated herself on one of the lowest seats, not far from the commentator seat. They were going to have 2 matches in the morning – Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. Then they were to all go in for a quick lunch, and come out again for the final match. The final match would be the for the two houses which won their match in the morning.

"Bets on! Bets on!" Hermione heard the Weasley twins cry. "Go on, easy money to be made here! Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff! Put a galleon on Gryffindor and get two back, we can guarantee you!"

Hermione grimaced. Hannah Abbott, a passionate Hufflepuff, was storming over to Fred and George. By the looks of it, she was about to go and give them both a hard hit!

Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore's voice project through the stadium.

"Staff and students, please hush! Today we are holding a light-hearted quidditch tournament as a treat for all of your hard work. First, we will have Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. The teams already know this, but there is a slight change in rules. To prevent the matches going on for an eternity, if the snitch is not found within an hour, the team with the highest amount of points wins."

A slight groan emitted around the stadium. Dumbledore smiled apologetically.

"I do apologise for the change of rules. But let us not waste time – please may the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams take their place on the pitch!"

Hermione couldn't help but feel a burst of joy as Ron and Harry sauntered excitedly onto the pitch. Ron had gained so much confidence over the year.

"Let the match begin!" Boomed Dumbledore's voice.

It was quite alarming how good Gryffindor were. Within two minutes they had scored three goals, and within twenty minutes, Harry had caught the snitch.

"Gryffindor wins, 157 – 4!" Dumbledore called out humorously. "Remember, this is just a way of letting off steam. It's not about the winning! Please may the teams for Ravenclaw and Slytherin join the pitch!"

This match took a little longer, but both teams were equally matched in their cunning techniques. Hermione discreetly looked over to the Slytherin stand, and saw Draco cheering his team on. Somehow, he felt Hermione was looking, and he looked up and grinned. Seeing as everyone else was so engrossed in the game, it was safe. Hermione beamed back.

An hour later, the match was called to a close. The final score was 8 to Ravenclaw, and 10 to Slytherin. That could only mean –

"Gryffindor versus Slytherin will be the next match," called out Dumbledore, bemused. That would be rather interesting.

After a quick lunch of ham and cheese rolls, everyone had filed back out for the final match. Fred and George were now running all sorts of bets – not only the winner of the match, but who would be the first to get injured, to get attacked, and to attack in the first place.

As the players took their place, Hermione debated whether to cast a spell for Ron. She could see how he was extremely nervous, playing against the Slytherins. Hermione didn't blame him. The Slytherins could be cruel. She decided against it.

As Dumbledore signaled for the match to start, a great cheer arose. Hermione sat tentatively on her seat. Harry was hovering, stationary in the air, looking around for the snitch. Ron was flexing his fingers, and muttering to himself. As the quaffle neared the goal, Hermione held her breath – everyone held their breath, and – phew! Ron beat it off. A cheer erupted from the Gryffindors.

They were about 30 minutes into the game, with Gryffindor winning by three points, when it happened. One of the bludgers meaning to hit a Slytherin, who dodged, rammed straight into Harry. Unfortunately, Harry had been patrolling the area around Ron for the snitch; he fell into Ron, and they both tumbled to the ground. There was deathly silence, apart from the whirr of the quidditch balls. Hermione gasped.

"Do something!" she cried to the commentator.

"Someone call the nurse!" Dumbledore bellowed. He walked over to the boys. "They will be fine; they're both knocked out, but they don't seem to have broken anything." He waved his wand and two stretchers appeared. Members from the Gryffindor team flew down and helped lift Harry and Ron onto the stretchers. By this time, the nurse had scurried out onto the pitch. After performing a charm, she headed back to the hospital wing with Harry and Ron being towed behind her.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Seeing as the match cannot go on, we shall call it a close here. I am proud to announce the winner is – "

"Gryffindor!" Everyone yelled, apart from Slytherins. Hermione sat there, waiting for the perfect chance to slip away to the hospital wing. As everyone stood up and cheered, applauded, hugged each other and all sorts, Hermione grabbed the chance. She quickly ran along the passageway, and up the grassy hill from the pitch, her heart thumping.

As Slytherin sat there, grumbling, Draco turned round to see Hermione's reaction. Was she happy? Or was she worried? But she wasn't there. Everyone was getting up now to go back to school. Draco followed them all, lost in his own thoughts.

Hermione was just rounding the corner to the hospital wing when she bumped into someone. Oh no. Snape.

"Miss Granger, I'll have you know that your next lesson, potions, is actually down this corridor and to the right." And with that, he smirked and walked off. Pulling a grotesque face behind his back, Hermione followed him to the potions room.


	8. Chapter 8 Potions

I'M BACK!

Guys, I'm so, so sorry for leaving this for a year. It hasn't felt like a year, I promise! But I've been SO busy, and I've been dealing with all sorts of stuff. But I've missed writing this! I've almost felt like I've let all the guys who said 'this is good! Keep writing' down. So yeah. This is just a short chapter, it's been in my drafts for aaagggesss, and I kept it quite short so I could ease myself back into the story. Don't judge me too much on it please, but any spelling/grammar errors, constructive criticism, or plot ideas are welcomed :) Enjoy! And once again, I'm REALLY sorry.

This was possibly the first time that Draco had ever not felt disgruntled by the fact that he had to share potions lessons with the Gryffindors. He'd been looking forward to potions ever since he had started to become friendly with Hermione, as he was starting to see her in a whole different way. They'd come into contact a few times over the past few days, and he'd thrown a few half-hearted insults her way if she was with Harry and Ron. He'd tried to make them have double meanings, and when she gave him a secret knowing smirk, he knew she understood. He didn't want to admit that it also made something inside him woop with joy.

After the cheering died down, Professor Dumbledore announced that the match had come to a close just in time for their next lesson, and they were to carry on the normal school day. As everyone filled the corridors, Draco spotted Snape at far end, with Hermione close behind. What was she in trouble for _now? _They were heading towards potions, so Draco sped up through the throng of people to catch them up.

"Today we will be attempting-" Snape drew out the last word – "to make a calming draught." Well, that's easy enough, thought Hermione. Harry and Ron wouldn't be here with her to make the lesson bearable, but they were never really a helpful pair when it came down to making the potions anyway, so she might just survive. Snape started pacing the room, collecting various herbs off the shelves. "I'd like you to work in pairs, because I want to save as much of the ingredients as possible for another potion. You can start now." As everyone got up and started collecting their ingredients, Hermione wondered what to do. She would never be able to work on her own. Ron usually went off to work with another Gryffindor on the other table, and Harry would work with her. She didn't really know any of those Gryffindors that well, and –

"Miss Granger," said that all too familiar voice, right behind her. "As you appear to be one person short of a pair, you can go and work with Mr Malfoy here, who is also needing a… partner." With a smirk, he indicated to Draco's table in the corner, which Crabbe and Goyle had abandoned for one nearer to the back. Hermione frowned. This was going to be interesting.

As she walked over to his table, Hermione picked up the various ingredients on the way. In all fairness, Draco did need a partner. But Snape could've paired him with someone else. Did he make them go together as he thought that they'd be at eachother's throats by now after a lifetime's worth of detention? Or maybe, maybe he knew… no, of course he didn't. And even if he did, he wouldn't believe it. She walked over to his table, and was greeted by a lazy smirk. To the others in the classroom, it would've looked like a symbol of arrogance, as only Hermione was close enough to see the smile in his eyes. Why didn't he smile more often? His eyes crinkled handsomely and he just looked so –

Oh god, thought Hermione. Stop. Now.

"So, Granger… how are Potter and Weasley?" Draco quietly asked as he cut up the roots.

Hermione looked up, but carried on chopping. "I don't know. Snape found me on the way to the hopital wing, and practically dragged me with him back here."

Draco nodded, concerned. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if Crabbe and Goyle both ended up in the hospital wing – he probably wouldn't have risked the trouble by missing a lesson to see them, though. They looked gormless enough when they were awake – why on earth would he visit them when they were unconscious? He looked over to their table, and contained the urge to laugh as Goyle knocked over the cauldron with his elbow, sending a lumpy brown mess (which was certainly not what the potion was meant to look like) onto Crabbe. He looked back at Hermione though, who had now moved onto mashing the roots, and saw how worried she was.

"Muffliato", he whispered, discreetly moving his wand. Hermione looked up at him, alarmed. "What did you just do?" She practically hissed.

"Calm down!" Draco said at normal volume, amusedly watching Hermione's eyes widen. I just cast 'muffliato' - it basically means we can speak to eachother and no one can hear us. So as long as I look at you like you're an idiot, and you look at me like I'm a piece of dog poo on your shoe when we're speaking, no one will be any the wiser."

Throwing the roots into the cauldron, Hermione glared at Draco. "Are you going to help me or not?" she asked.

"Of course," Draco replied, giving her one of his trademark dirty looks. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Hermione bent over to get the book, and Draco saw her smile. This was ridiculous. And funny. As she started to go over the potion, Draco smiled to himself. How odd life could be.


	9. Chapter 9 New experiences

Hi! I just put the finishing touches to this draft which has been floating around for a while. There WILL be spelling/grammatical errors in it (most of my writing urges come late at night...) so please ignore or if it's really annoying, just let me know in a review. Which reminds me - thank you SO MUCH for your kind reviews, and thanks to everyone who has favourited/followed this. I got a review in the other day which motivated me to complete the chapter. See, every review helps ;) Enjoy, review, let me know of any plot ideas/improvements you have, etc. xx

Once again, it was time to go back up to the old, musty tower classroom with Draco. Potions had been the last lesson of the day – and as the lesson was drawn to a close, Snape signaled for them to both wait as he dismissed the class. He then told them that he had left the tower room unlocked, and they were to go up there immediately.

"I'll come up when I feel you have both spent enough time up there." He looked up at them with an almost bored expression. "Since there's only a handful of days left of this term and the classroom is to be put to use in September, I might have to leave you two there for a little longer." Snape smirked and, with a wave of his hand, told them to go.

"Is he even allowed to do that?!" Hermione exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot of the potions room. "This is unacceptable! I have homework! I have three essays! I have to do them!" She felt the tears prick at her eyes. _No. I cannot cry. _She heard Draco chuckle.

"Jesus, relax, Hermione. Try and look at it in a different light. You can easily do that homework. You're very, very smart. Just relax and use the next hour, or two, or five, since we don't know what Snape's up to, to unwind and muck about a bit." He smiled at her.

Hermione felt a burning heat creep up her cheeks. She couldn't believe this was coming out of Draco's mouth! Draco Malfoy – the boy who was arrogant, disrespectful, and a first class antagonist. She shouldn't believe a word he was saying – yet it sounded so natural coming out of his mouth; so much easier than when he was winding people up. Now THAT just sounded rehearsed, as if all of the expressions and comebacks he used were practiced to death in front of his bathroom mirror first.

"Okay. I'll try," she murmured, keeping her head down. Suddenly, the stone floor became very interesting. All of a sudden, Draco stopped walking, and pulled Hermione to a halt by putting his hands on her shoulders, and turned her towards him.

"Look at me, Granger." He said. Hermione lifted her head up a slight fraction, painfully aware that Draco's hands on her shoulders had completed her face's transformation into a tomato. Draco put a tender hand under Hermione's chin and lifted her up so she was looking up at him. _Oh my god, oh my god. _Hermione struggled to breathe normally. This was the closest she'd ever got to a boy, and the fact that it was with Draco Malfoy made this moment a lot more intense.

"You don't need to try. I know you can. You've got to remember, I've seen you let go now. Deep breath, Granger. Just let go." Draco half whispered, smiling. And just like that, the moment passed. Draco let go of her chin, patted her shoulder, and carried on walking. Hermione lagged behind for a few seconds, partially to let her face return to it's normal state, partly to take a few calming breaths to slow down her heart, and lastly, to try and work out how to react to what had just happened. What Hermione really wanted to do was collapse on the floor in a state of hysteria, or sprint back to the Gryffindor common room and tell Ginny everything that had just happened. The first idea was quickly shot down, as was the second – the first one for obvious reasons, and the second because, well, how on earth would Ginny react to Hermione telling her that she'd just been in a situation where her face was merely inches away from Draco's? She probably wouldn't believe her at first. And if she ever did, Hermione arrived at the conclusion that Ginny would probably slap some sense into her and recollect every bad thing Draco had ever done. No, it was definitely best to keep this little incident to herself.

Quickening her pace, Hermione fell in step with Draco and they chatted amiably all the way up to the tower. The conversation flowed easily, but had to occasionally be stopped if they passed a student in the corridor. Draco found it amusing to also throw in a glare or two; and at one point, even shoulder barged Hermione into the wall when a second year passed. As soon as the pupil was out of sight, though, this quickly escalated into a huge play fight which Hermione won, by elbowing Draco into an open classroom, resulting in him falling over a chair. _Life is odd, _Hermione thought to herself. _I just pushed Draco into a classroom and we're both laughing our heads off about it. _

As they reached the door to the classroom, Draco made a show of opening the door for her and bowing as she entered. Even though the windows were high up, strong beams of light poured in, lighting up the room. Dust swirled around lazily.

In a strange way, it looked beautiful.

Hermione was snapped back to her senses after a cloth hit her square in the face.

"Draco!" She shrieked over his laughter.

"Draco!" He imitated humorously before collapsing into a new wave of hysterics. "C'mon, I think I need a round of applause for getting you in the face from the other side of the room!"

Hermione grinned. "Really…"

Draco beamed back. "Yes, really. I want my round of applause." He stood back and opened his arms wide, expectant.

Hermione smiled to herself, shaking her head. "You just hit me in the face and want me to congratulate you on your fantastic aim! Surely I should be getting an apology, if anything?"

Draco lowered his arms and looked down at his feet. He slowly walked over to her. _Have I gone too far? _Hermione panicked to herself. _Does he think I'm being serious?_

Draco stopped in front of her, and slowly sunk to one knee. _What do I do?! _Hermione thought to herself, alarmed. She felt hotness creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. She settled for looking down at her right shoe, twiddling a piece of her wavy locks.

"Hermione Granger," Draco started seriously. "I am terribly sorry that, with my fantastic aim, I hit you in the face with a cloth. Please accept my deepest apologies and do not ask for more – for I fear that if they are any deeper, I will have to go underground to find them." He got up, dusted off his knee, and held out his hands.

_What now?! _Shrieked the little voice in Hermione's brain. Why two hands? If it was one, she would've shaken it, laughed, and the whole business would be over. But two hands?! Was she meant to shake one in each turn – or…

"I'm getting a tad impatient for your verdict, Miss Granger," joked Draco. Hermione heard the doubt creeping into his voice.

Taking a deep (but hopefully un-noticeable) breath, Hermione looked up and smiled as she placed her hands in his. "I suppose it'll do."

Draco beamed again, his grey eyes crinkling in that cute way again. He reached up to push his floppy blonde hair out of his eyes, seemingly forgetting that he still had Hermione's hand. She squealed as he pulled her closer, and Draco laughed as he realized what he'd done. But instead of letting go of her hand, he pulled her closer still and pressed his lips onto hers.


	10. Chapter 10 The white lie

Hermione looked out of the window in Gryffindor's common room, drinking in the pitch black night dusted with stars.

So many stars. _How long would it take to count them all? _She thought to herself. _1,2,3,4,5,6….7…. oh no, I think I've already counted that one. _Giggling to herself, she gave up.

It was at that point that Ginny slammed her book onto the table, sending a resounding thud around the room. "Hermione, what is wrong with you?!" She exclaimed.

Hermione turned round and smiled. "I'm just appreciating the beauty of things I've never really noticed before," she replied, turning back to look out the window once more. Wasn't that so true. She heard Ginny tut.

"You've never appreciated the night's sky's beauty? My arse," Ginny rudely snorted. "You don't remember the time in March when you borrowed that book from the library about constellations, then? And you snuck out nearly every night to stargaze? Or are you appreciating the beauty of something else that you – hang on a minute. Miss Granger, are you in love?"

Hermione couldn't help but to burst out laughing. Ginny, feeling slightly chagrined at jumping to such a conclusion, laughed along too. "I was only joking about the whole love thing, 'mione."

"I wasn't," Hermione replied quietly. Not quietly enough, for Ginny managed to hear. She felt a hand tug at her arm, and before Hermione knew it, she had been pushed on to the sofa and Ginny was towering over her.

"Miss Granger, I demand to know who this person is, what you did, and when it happened!" Ginny started on a serious, almost reprimanding note, but slowly gave in to curiosity and excitement for a bit of girly gossip, and ended up sitting down on the sofa opposite repeating 'Who? What? When? Tell me, tell me!'

Hermione smiled to herself, stalling for time by pulling a cushion onto her lap and fiddling with one of the golden tassels.

"It was about…" Hermione was about to say 'five-ish' until she remembered that it was common knowledge she had only got back to the common room at seven after spending three hours in detention with Draco Malfoy. If she gave a time, it would be obvious it was Draco – and although she was sure Ginny would wheedle it out of her at some point, Hermione was still going to try her best to ease that little fact in when Ginny wasn't in such an explosive mood.

"…It was today," Hermione finished helplessly. Ginny squealed, but soon got over it. "What period?"

"That is for me to know, and you not to find out!" Hermione answered smartly, tapping her nose for good measure. Realising it was a hopeless cause, Ginny moved on to the next one.

"Okay, so what did you do?" She asked excitedly.

Hermione grimaced. Show time. "It was only small, but…"

"But what?"

"It was definitely…"

"Definitely what?!"

"It was definitely a kiss," She said quickly and quietly. Ginny shrieked with excitement, provoking a few irritable Gryffindors to shout down from their dorms for her to shut up.

"It's only 8.30, you morons!" Ginny yelled. She turned back to Hermione with a huge grin plastered on her face. "I can't believe this. I actually cannot believe this. My girl's smitten!" Hermione leaned back and groaned inwardly. Ginny was speaking at two hundred miles per hour – her trademark sign that this was the only the start of it. There was still the full detailed analysis of the kiss (including rating, which way she had tilted her head, and whether there was any mouth-opening) to come, plus an evaluation which would be longer than the ones Snape expected for his experiment write – ups. On top of that, Hermione realized that she wouldn't be going anywhere until she told Ginny who the guy was.

About half an hour later, Ginny had got out of Hermione every single detail about the kiss. She felt rather like an orange being squeezed of every single drop of juice. She hadn't minded, though – it put off the main question of the evening. Who was the guy?

And here it came. Ginny looked up the staircases to the dormitories, and then to the common room entrance. She then looked around, to see who else was in the room. Seeing that the only occupants were at the other end by the bookshelves, Ginny smiled and leaned in close.

"Who was it?"

"Um," She started helplessly. Um. Oh dear. Hermione had two options – the first was, of course, to just come straight and tell the truth. But really, that was just a recipe for disaster. Ginny hated Draco, partly because of his jokes made at Harry and Ron's expense, and also because of his dubious connections to dark wizards. Ginny had a very good way with words – Hermione knew that if she admitted it was Draco, it would be ten minutes tops for Ginny to turn it all around and make Hermione feel overwhelmingly guilty about the whole thing and wishing it had never happened, when truthfully, Hermione had not felt so happy in a while.

This left the other option: to lie. This was risky, as Hermione would have to choose the boy right now and just hope that he'd play along. _Which boy who I know well would play along to this? It would mean I would have to tell them the truth as well…._

_ Harry! _Hermione congratulated herself on her excellent idea. After all, Harry had kept the whole library – runes homework scenario unmentioned - and he wasn't stupid. He must've put two and two together. He had stuck up for Hermione after her little outburst in the dining hall.

Harry was a risky one, though. Say Ginny got to Harry before her and asked for every little detail? Would Harry catch on in time? Would what he said match up with hers? And then there was also that one small, niggling problem – Hermione had suspected for a while now that Ginny quite fancied Harry.

"Ginny… I just – I just want you to know that it wasn't really all that serious… just a bit of fun – no, that sounds bad. I just mean, it isn't the start of something else – '

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Spit it out, Hermione. You know you're not going anywhere until you tell me."

Hermione took a deep breath. "It was Harry."

She didn't look up see Ginny's reaction. The fact that it was silent for a few seconds told Hermione all that she needed to know – Ginny did indeed like Harry. _Better this than the truth, though._

Or was it?

"Wow! I wasn't expecting that," Ginny replied, her enthusiasm obviously feigned. "Perhaps Ron, or maybe even Seamus, I thought. But I thought you and Harry were strictly friends?"

Hermione realized this wasn't a question, an inquiry. It was her last chance to deny it, to reassure Ginny. Hating herself, Hermione shook her head.

"I told you, it probably won't go anywhere. It was just an in-the-moment thing," Hermione said lamely. "I kind of regret it, to be honest. In fact, I shall go and speak to him this very instant and see what it is going on."

"You do that," Ginny replied in a small voice, her smile more a grimace. As Hermione left the room to go searching for Harry in the library, she heard Ginny mutter to herself.

"I thought he liked me. Well, he obviously bloody doesn't. How can I ever compare to her, anyway?"


End file.
